


game on

by swishandflickwit



Series: The Devil's Lucky Number [20]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe KNOWS, Deckerstar - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, deckerstar fanfiction, he is risen, post-reveal, sexy drabble, sexy language, this was hella fun, well implied smut at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-24 01:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18561124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishandflickwit/pseuds/swishandflickwit
Summary: No, it was better this way—limbs alternating between taut and loose as the air between them grew heavy with anticipation.The game was afoot.In which Chloe assists Lucifer with his morning routines.





	game on

**Author's Note:**

> For [Kay_kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kay_kat) who requested:
> 
> _I'd love to see one of them just being terribly domestic and fluffy haha! ;)_
> 
> Err—this went more towards smutty than fluffy. But I kinda got fixated on how Lucifer says, "game on" and guess my brain ~~came~~ went here. 
> 
> ...Sorry? XD

“Need help?”

Lucifer hid his smile. He wondered how much longer she would lurk at his doorframe—all hooded ocean eyes and her svelte figure lovely with the russet radiance of dawn adorning her, as if the light itself understood that no other nirvana would compare to that which could be found within the expanse of her succulent flesh.

(He should know, they were of _him,_ after all)

He had been half-tempted to close the distance between them, himself.

But where would the fun in that be?

No, it was better this way—limbs alternating between taut and loose as the air between them grew heavy with anticipation.

The game was afoot.

“Much obliged,” he quipped though they both knew very well he was _more_ than capable of accomplishing his morning grooming routine on his own.

“Sit,” she gestured to the closed lid of the toilet.

“As my lady commands,” he whispered when he came up behind her, tongue brushing the delicate curve of her earlobe as he expelled the words.

He felt her shudder ripple down her spine, and his toes curled in ecstasy at her poorly-hidden response.

The last couple of times they had done this, she had won. For though he approved of her methods, he had not expected her escamotage.

But now that he knew—he would not break so easy.

She cottoned onto his schemes, yet he would not be deterred.

_I have a sharp object,_ her glare seemed to convey as she approached his seated form. She had caught him when he had been about to shave, and so lathered his jaw and neck with foam.

_Game on,_ returned his lifted brow.

She played a lot on proximity, knowing the exquisite torture of having her within his grasp but unable to touch, to _taste_. But she went and altered the rules by settling onto his lap. He wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. She was scantily clad in a tank top and sleep shorts, the heat of her sex in perfect alignment with his own.

His breath hitched, hands stilling on her waist when she ground against him in the guise of switching her angle on his face.

“Oops,” she jibed, and to further demonstrate her lack of remorse, she thrust more purposefully against him.

He hissed.

“Careful of the goods, darling,”

He was unsure anymore whether he was referring to his face or his cock.

“Of course,” she smirked.

She reached for a towel on the counter beside them then proceeded with his eyeliner.

She needn’t be so close that her breath was a sweet zephyr skirting his mouth, but it was another of her skullduggery. He licked his lips, and could almost sense the ambrosia of her tongue bursting against his taste buds.

All pretense of eyeliner application was abandoned when she grazed the bridge of his nose with the tip of hers, her fingers featherlight between his shoulder blades so that it was _his_ turn to shiver.

“Okay?” she hummed. His breathing quickened at the hunger in her eyes. It called to the lubricity in his own soul.

“Fuck it,” he growled.

And slanted his lips across her own.

He should be ashamed—they hadn’t even gotten to dress him!

But there was no room for it in the Devil, not when he sunk to his knees before his divine sovereign and paid fealty to her body against the rapidly warming tiles of his bathroom.

“It appears,” he tutted as he inspected his wrecked appearance in the afterglow. “That we must start all over again.”

“You could do it yourself, you know,” she grinned, equally debauched with her bottom bare and her top scrunched scandalously around her middle.

The ultimate victor.

(And if she was his penalty, may he lose _every_ time)

“Perhaps,” he purred, nosing at the elegant slope of her neck where the scent of her—addicting enough to drive anyone mad—was most strong.

“But where would the fun in that be?”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been veering a lot, haven't I? It's nice to go back to my roots :)
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!](http://swishandflickwit.tumblr.com/)


End file.
